


Morning After

by Ael_tRlailiiu



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ael_tRlailiiu/pseuds/Ael_tRlailiiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because my brain thought the world needed another "aftermath of the Battle of New York" scene, and I have given up on making it shut up, here's a little reunion bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have read so many of these now that I am worried I may have actually borrowed something unconsciously here. If you notice anything like that, do drop me a note and I will rectify. Part of the conversation is seen from Tony's POV in "Precious and Fragile Things," because I am a consistency fiend.

Pepper edged out of the elevator.

“Welcome home, Ms. Potts.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” She dropped her bag on the floor and looked around at the mess, or what she could see of it in the dim light, the glow of the city that made its way through the shattered windows. Broken glass was the least of it, and she didn't give a single damn. She went upstairs and found Tony asleep, sprawled across a considerable chunk of their bed. She stopped for a moment there just to watch him breathe. Those were bruises, not shadows on his skin.

She _had_ been this exhausted before, actually, but it wasn't something she got used to. She felt disgusting, from too much time on airplanes and in cars and from walking the last fifteen blocks through the rubble-choked streets, but that didn't stop Pepper from dropping her clothes on the floor and crawling into bed. It was cold out here, with all those windows gone.

She felt selfish but not sorry for it when the motion woke Tony up and he pulled her in close. Wasn't sorry at all to have the edge of the reactor pressing into her chest, hard and just a few degrees cooler than his body. For a long time, neither of them said anything. She would have known it was bad just from that, but she put off asking and just soaked herself in his nearness for as long as he let her.

“You should have called,” he mumbled eventually. “I'd have come to pick you up.”

“They made us land in Hartford. I did call, you didn't pick up. JARVIS said you were okay but worn out.”

“Accurate. There was a lot to do. Still is a lot to do, but....”

“Our lobby is full of the National Guard..”

“Yeah, full house tonight. Thor and a lot of guys with guns are babysitting his lunatic brother down there somewhere. Natalie-Natasha-whatever and her guy are in one of the guest rooms.”

“Her guy?” Pepper's eyebrows went up.

“Well, I'm assuming, I don't know, they room together. Didn't seem nice to send them back out into the streets when we all kind of fell over. Bruce—you'll like him, he saved my life—and Selvig are in the other one. Assassins to the left, physicists to the right.”

“Stuck in the middle.” She nuzzled his neck, sorted the smells of sweat and smoke and ozone. “I'm sure I'll like them just fine. I am often well-disposed to people who save your life.”

“True. Don't know where Cap went. Probably cleaning something up somewhere. Heroically.”

“Cap?”

“Captain America. Not... all that bad a guy.”

Her eyebrows were getting tired. It had obviously been quite a day. “Speaking of phone calls. What were you doing calling me in the middle of an alien invasion?” She knew from the way he froze up, just for an instant, that it was something she wouldn't like.

“I thought maybe I'd left the stove on.”

Full marks for effort at sounding casual, but she had known him way too long. “You haven't touched that stove since they installed it.”

“You're right, why do we even have a kitchen? We could probably make do with a coffee-maker and a toaster oven, be just like college.”

“Funny. What was so important?” She had told herself a thousand times, in those hours before her own call could get through to the Tower, that it would have been all over the news if he was dead.

“I wanted to tell you that I remembered when your birthday is.”

She blinked at him and wondered if she had heard that right. “My birthday isn't for months.”

“I know. I mean I know, that it's still a ways away. That's kind of amazing, right?”

“Tony. We're both very tired. You went through a war yesterday. I know that, and I just want to know that you're all right.”

“I'm fine. Ish.” He dithered a moment. “It's just that the security council thought that we couldn't handle things on our own, which we were doing pretty damn well I might say, all six of us, and the way to deal with the invasion was to nuke it.”

“To nuke it,” she repeated numbly. “They—”

“Yeah. Sent out a bomb. Well, we had this portal to exta-solar space right there, so, somebody had to get rid of the nuke, right? It worked, worked really well actually. Or so I'm told, I, ah, missed a couple of minutes there, but I'm fine, I came back. So. Stupid move on my part, calling.”

“Okay.” She considered that. Considered that he had never called her before, ever, all the times he had gone out alone to face his old sins. She might never be ready to think about this.

Then he said, “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

His eyes closed for a moment. “I keep... almost forgetting. Um. This is... not good news. It's.” He got that little crease between his eyebrows when he was trying to say something he didn't want to say. “Phil. Is. He didn't. I'm sorry.” He loosened his grip as if he thought she might want to flee, because that was the sort of thing _he_ would do.

“Phil.” Her throat closed up further. _But he just dropped me off at the airport_. As if that made any difference. As if there weren't thousands of people who would say, would hear, _I'm sorry_ today. “What... what happened?”

“Tried to keep Loki from escaping. By himself.”

“That... sounds like Phil.” _He saved my life. Saved my sanity, probably, after Stane. He liked old things, and took three sugars in his coffee, and if he wasn't always nice I think he actually revered life. Today someone will have to call her and tell her._ She wondered who did those things for SHIELD. She burrowed closer to Tony, buried herself for a while until the first drenching wave left her, for however long it took until the blurring was gone from her vision. “You're a mess,” she said when she could talk again.

He breathed a little laugh-that-wasn't. “One to talk, Potts.”

She brushed her tears off his shoulder. “You've got grit in your hair.”

“So do you.”

She quested further. “Is that blood?”

“Probably. Head-first through a turbine, several buildings, a portal in space-time, and a flying... whale, thing.”

“I saw those on TV.”

“I think we're supposed to have life-affirming sex now. Rain check?”

“Yes.” In a few more hours, the sun would come up. There would be work; that was a universal constant. She was so tired her body felt alien, distant, and she let it float away on a sea of grief and gratitude, for all that had been lost and saved, and leave her dreamless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper meets the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some domestic fluffiness as I try to break myself out of a writing slough.

Tony was gone when she woke up. Pepper could hear water running, and spent a moment in fervent thanks that there was, in fact, water. Morning sun shone in through the floor to ceiling windows. It looked like a beautiful day.

Yesterday had been a beautiful day, too. She rubbed her eyes, raw and aching from tears and exhaustion, and pried herself out of the bed's embrace. If she squinted at the horizon, she might pretend that it hadn't happened, but let her gaze drift nearer and the illusion vanished.

For one thing, there was a space whale wreck, or possibly carcass, draped across two buildings a little way down the street.

She shook her head at the sight and headed for the bathroom. She hadn't even brushed her teeth the night before, so she remedied that and then hung her head around the bathroom partition.

“Is there room for one more?” Old joke, there was room for six if they were ever so inclined.

“Come and find out?”

She thought she had braced herself sufficiently and still sucked in a breath at the sight of him.

“Hey.” Tony tucked his fingertips under her chin to bring her gaze up. “Could be worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes, actually. Trashed _two_ suits yesterday, got away with bruises? Bruises go away.”

“True.” She leaned her forehead against his under the beating water. She knew that Tony seldom spared a glance at the past once it had stopped shooting at him, that he had probably already come to terms with everything he intended to come to terms with. She thought it might be how he survived his life, that he either healed quickly or not at all. It was going to take her a bit more time.

First things first; she wanted to be clean. She knew he was going to try to distract her, though he let her wash her hair before he started “helping.”

“So, about that rain check....”

“You are unreal,” she said.

“I did get more sleep than you. Well, _last_ night, anyway. This is not a thing that ever happens.” He stood behind her and ran his hands down her back, pressing just hard enough on all of the sore spots to make her arch into his touch.

“I wasn't saying no.” She would admit to a downright unreasonable love for his hands. Even all those years ago, it had struck her as odd that for someone so perfectly turned out, so conscious of his appearance, his hands always sported some rough patch or a freshly singed spot, at war with his surface flash.

“Never thought I'd say this, but I was glad you weren't here.” He kept up the steady pressure. “If you'd been in the Tower....”

“Well. I wasn't.” She turned around and caught his hands in hers. “How does it feel to save the world?”

“Sort of like this.”

It was pretty damn life-affirming, she had to admit, if a bit more slow and gingerly than normal. She left him puttering around the bedroom, checking in with JARVIS and getting a start on probably ten thousand messages asking some variation on _Are you dead?_ and _What the hell happened?_

TO DO: Press release. She still preferred to handle Tony-related publicity herself. Would have to check in with SHIELD, find out what was allowable to say. _Dear citizens of New York, you nearly got nuked. Have a nice day, thank your local Avenger._

She did a pass by the guest rooms and found people starting to stir. Assassins to the left—the bed was empty, the bathroom door closed, the faint sound of running water. Physicists to the right—a shape still burrowed deep into the blankets, a light in the bathroom.

“Ms. Potts,” JARVIS said. “Mr. Odinsson will arrive momentarily.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She went downstairs in time to meet the elevator. Few social situations could throw Pepper. Meeting a Norse god while dressed in a bathrobe and afterglow just about did it, but she squared her shoulders with a polite smile.

“You must be Thor. Pepper Potts. It's a pleasure to meet you.” She extended a hand.

He bowed and kissed it. “The honor is mine. You are chatelaine of this tower, I understand?”

“That's as good a word as any. Tony'll be down in a minute. Can I interest you in breakfast?” She had no idea what they had around, but, well, maybe French toast?

“I would be most grateful for such hospitality.”

“Right this way.” Loki hadn't gotten as far as the kitchen, apparently. She had gone to sleep without thinking twice about the fact that much of the whole business had happened _in her house_. She decided to keep on not thinking about it and concentrate on getting through the morning.

TO DO: Find out whether any SI employees had been hurt or killed. Find out if anyone in New York was working on a survivor's fund already.

A woman stood in front of the coffee maker. Blood-red hair brushed the collar of her white robe.

“Na...tasha.” Pepper almost tripped over the name. “Good morning.”

“Ms. Potts.” She turned. Natasha's wide eyes looked bruised, she had a cut on her forehead, and her hair was wet; she looked like a half-drowned kitten in a borrowed bathrobe and bare feet.

“Pepper. Please.” It wasn't effortless. For all the good that had followed, those were some of her least pleasant memories.

“Thank you.” Her lowered lashes acknowledged that. “I thought I'd make coffee.” Of course she had absorbed Tony's ridiculously complicated coffee system last time.

“I'm sure that will go over well.” She turned toward Thor.

“Lady Natasha.” He bowed again. “Coffee would be most welcome, I admit.”

“Coming right up.” Natasha smiled. “How's everything downstairs?”

Thor's expression did something complicated—angry and sad and resolute. “He is secure, never fear, and silenced, but I will not long leave him under such guard as this world can muster. I have news for all of us, when we are gathered together.”

Pepper said, “How many are we expecting?”

“I am told Captain Rogers will join us. If that is acceptable, of course.”

“Of course it is.” She looked at Natasha again and regretted her tone. Whatever lay in the past, the woman had spent the previous day going hand to hand against an army of alien invaders; she deserved better than suspicion, and Pepper could do better than resent her doing her job. Pepper injected actual warmth into her voice. “The more the merrier.” She showed Thor to the dining room—the first time it had seen use, the chairs had arrived not even a week ago, and Pepper wasn't sure she liked them. She returned to the kitchen and found a strange man sitting on a stool at the counter, his own borrowed robe tucked around his waist but his chest bare, while Natasha went over him with practiced eyes and hands.

“Clint Barton,” he introduced himself. If Natasha looked tired, he looked just this side of dead. The sturdy cast of his features sat oddly with the way his glance slid away from Pepper's. He twisted a little under Natasha's hand. “Watch it.”

“I just want to make sure I didn't miss any glass fragments last night,” she said, “if you would _hold still_.”

TO DO: Find out where on the city's priority list the Tower repairs fell. Fighting over contractors would be bad PR. Saving the city should count for something, but what have you done for me lately. Perhaps they could ferry in extra workers?

Pepper returned to the refrigerator, found juice and milk and fruit, and decided that it might be a good idea to get dressed. Natasha had vanished to tend to the coffee and left “her guy” sitting there with his thousand-yard stare. Pepper could see scrapes and bruises on his hands where they were folded on the countertop.

“Anything I can do to help?” he said after a moment.

She gave him a quick, uncertain smile. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Something to do would help.”

“All right.” She showed him where the dishes and silverware were and went upstairs. Tony had vanished, but she could hear him talking to someone farther down the hall. She pulled on a soft gray sweater and a jersey ankle skirt, and put up her hair. This wasn't work, but neither was it an entirely casual occasion.

“Tony, I could use a hand here.” She followed the voices into the second guest room and found him sitting cross-legged on the bed, dressed in jeans and an Iron Maiden shirt and talking a blue streak to whoever was in the bathroom. “Thor's downstairs, and apparently we're expecting Captain Rogers.”

“Oh _are_ we now. Get a move on in there, Banner, can't keep the Star Spangled Man waiting.”

“He's not here yet,” Pepper said. She waved a hand at the stack of fabric beside him. “What is that?”

Tony blinked at her. “Pants.”

“What are you doing with them?” She sensed the edges of something complicated going on in the room, not least in the fact that Tony was in it. His degree of sociability varied widely from day to day, but was generally 100% absent before coffee.

“There has been a lack of pants. I am attempting to supply pants.”

“You have, in fact—hello,” The man in the bathroom stuck a shaggy head out. “I'm sorry to put you to all of this trouble—”

She said, “The next words out of your mouth will be 'but Tony,' I just know it. It's no trouble. This one, on the other hand.” She poked Tony on his shoulder, just hard enough to provoke a scandalized look.

“So I've heard.” The man emerged fully from the bathroom, wearing what looked like a pair of Tony's jeans and what was definitely one of his sweatshirts. “Er. Good morning.” His tone held a hint of question, as if he wasn't quite certain whether it was, and he carried himself like he wasn't sure he ought to touch anything, but he crossed the room and offered her a hand.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Banner. I'm told I owe you one,” Pepper said, and hugged him. Over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of Tony's expression, amused and pleased, and thought that she had guessed right. She often did, with him.

Banner held very still, surprised and wary, and gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “It was, um... my pleasure? So far as that applies, what with the... things going on, and so on.”

“Quite.” She released him. “Everyone else is up. Sounds like there's going to be a meeting.”

Tony hopped off the bed. “I believe that's a hint.”

“I'll just be a minute,” Pepper said, and detoured back to their own bathroom for a bottle of ibuprofen. Not something she usually set out for parties, but the occasion seemed to demand it.

She headed back down to the dining room and paused.

Welcome smells drifted out of the kitchen. Thor stood with his hands on the shoulders of an older man—Selvig, by elimination—and an earnest expression before sweeping Erik into an embrace that lifted him off the floor. The name Jane was mentioned. Selvig looked... not happy, but pleased, perhaps. At the end of the table, Clint and Natasha fenced with butter knives, apparently over which of them got the last of the blueberry syrup, since someone had had the same brainstorm Pepper had about French toast. And there was her lover/friend/partner/other half of her helix, sitting _on_ the table, hands in motion, talking to Banner and a very tall, blond man. She had seen Rogers before, in old photos and newsreels, and seeing him _here_ , unchanged, even out of uniform, raised the hairs on the back of her neck with the sheer unnaturalness of it. She wondered how it felt from his point of view.

She could only see Tony's back, but that was enough. Not many people triggered his territorial instincts; realistically speaking, not many people could pose a threat to him. This one had him a little tense, but he had it under control.

Thor set Selvig down and cleared his throat. “I have spoken with Director Fury,” he announced. “And he has agreed that it is fitting that Loki shall stand trial on Asgard.”

Rogers frowned. “Is that really the best solution, here?”

“The ICC probably isn't set up to handle interplanetary threats,” Banner said. “Where would they put him that he couldn't break out of?”

“I'm sure we could come up with something,” Tony said with dark cheer. “Preferably involving a—”

“How are you planning to get him there?” Clint asked. “We don't seem to have any functioning portals just at the moment.”

“The Tesseract will return with us,” Thor said, and everyone shut up for a moment. “It cannot remain on Midgard to threaten your people. Its power can be harnessed for the journey.”

Tony cocked his head. “How does that work? Click your heels and—”

“Don't _even_ ,” Steve interrupted with a good-humored look.

“The power must be channeled appropriately,” Thor said. “I believe Dr. Selvig knows the means.”

“It should be possible,” Selvig said. He looked conflicted, but nodded. “And I... suppose it would be for the best. She's not meant for us, not yet. I'll need to do some calculations....”

“I suspect we're in the right place for that,” Bruce said deadpan.

Pepper didn't need to be able to see Tony's smirk to know it was there.

“Good.” Steve looked decisive. “I'll get back out there, then.”

“You should have something to eat first,” Pepper said, bestirring herself. Tony did the introductions; she saw Steve's glance slide between the two of them with a hint of confusion, trying to reconcile what he saw. It was hardly the first time they'd gotten that reaction; Pepper repressed a smile.

“Thank you,” Steve said. “But I ought to be giving people a hand, with things.”

Tony slid off the table. “What did I say about taking the day off? JARVIS, how's it coming?”

“Thirty minutes should suffice, sir.”

“There, half an hour. I can get dressed and give you a lift.”

Steve blinked at him. “You are dressed.”

“Not for building demolition. Super-soldiers march on their stomachs, right?”

Rogers relented, if just out of politeness, and breakfast was... only a little odd. Pepper explained the origins of the Bloody Mary to Thor, talked about the beauties of the Old Country with Selvig, saw some of the tightness ease out of Clint (and wondered at the way Natasha guarded him so closely), watched Banner put up a bewildered defense against the full-strength deployment of Stark charm (doomed, Pepper could have told him that), caught Steve's eye and shared a wry half-smile and shrug. Watched them coming back to life, after all they had been through, and gather themselves for the next effort.

“There's one thing I would like to do,” Steve said when things seemed to be on the verge of breaking up. He looked around the table and picked up a glass. "Since we're all here."

Tony seemed to know what he was thinking about. “Who wants to do the honors?”

“It's your house.”

“True.” He considered for a second. “I think we can all do it. Just this once.”

A quiet chorus said, “To Phil.”

  
  



End file.
